Never Let You Fall
by KriscendoForte
Summary: Ever since he can remember Dean has had a guardian angel. His angel would come and go, but he always showed up when Dean needed him most.
1. Chapter 1

November 2, 1983

Dean remembers every part of that night in clear detail. The voice of his father yelling at him echoed through his mind, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can, don't look back. Now, Dean! Go!" He could see the flames devouring the ceiling, could still feel the bite of the cold November air, the cold feeling of them Impala underneath him as he edged closer to his father's side, and he could still remember _him_. A young boy, the same age as Dean himself, standing in the shadow of the Impala, hidden partially by a tree. Dean had never seen this boy before, where did he come from? He just could not figure out who the boy was. Dean remembered the boy well; he had dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and was overdressed in a tan jacket with a blue tie. Maybe the boy had just left church, it was a Wednesday night, but then again where were his parents? Four year old boys don't just wonder around in the dark alone. And, perhaps strangest of all, no one else reported seeing another young boy by the Impala. When everyone else asked about the boy they shrugged it off as a shadow, or a hallucination induced by the trauma. But Dean remembered everything about that night, and that boy was not fake.

November 20, 1983

Nearly three weeks had passed and Dean wasn't talking much, and when he did talk it was to ask about "the angel boy". The only person Dean would talk to on a regular basis was his baby brother. Sam cried all of the time, missing his mother, but when Dean told him stories about the angel boy he stopped crying. Occasionally he would ask John about the boy, but John always dismissed the questions believing Dean had just been imagining the boy. John had started traveling with the boys, often leaving them in the care of friends. In this case they were with Ellen at the Roadhouse. Dean thought Ellen was nice, but he couldn't help wondering when they were going home. He missed his bed and all of his toys. Most of all he missed his mom. Dean didn't fully understand everything, but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to see his mom ever again. He was starting to wonder if he would ever see his house ever again, and John was gone so often Dean was starting to miss his dad along with everything else. John went out with Bill, Ellen's husband, every day. Sometimes they would be gone for days at a time. Ellen said they went off to hunt, but Dean hadn't seen any animals around and wasn't sure what exactly they were hunting. He would over hear conversations about werewolves and other creatures whose names he didn't recognize, but Dean didn't know why they loved talking about creatures from storybooks.

It had been a long, boring day and John had been gone for a few days so when Dean looked through the window and saw John and Bill approaching he ran outside to greet them. A gunshot pierced the air and Dean stood still, fear making him immobile. Another shot rang out and Dean jumped behind the Impala, just barely peeking over the hood trying to make sure his dad was not injured. Now he could see that there was a third person with John and Bill, but this person appeared to be backing away from them. Why was he scared of them? Why were there guns pointed at this man? As Dean tried to process the information a third shot was fired. This was another moment that Dean would remember for the rest of his life; the smoky, slightly metallic smell of gunpowder, the orange-red of the setting sun, the limp body of the third man falling to the ground, and _him_. As he stood there transfixed by the sight of a dead man Dean felt a presence behind him. He turned around slowly, scared of what might be standing behind him. But as soon as Dean saw the angel boy a sense of calm enveloped him. The same feeling he remembered from that night several weeks earlier. The feeling that made him know that this boy was an angel. The boy held a finger up to his lips and reached out with his other hand to touch Dean's shoulder. The boy did not speak but instead nodded towards the two hunters, encouraging Dean to go to them. A feeling of warmth and courage ran through him, powering him to turn around and run out to John.

"Dad?" John turned around, a look of dread filling his eyes.

"Dean, go inside right now. You shouldn't be out here." He didn't look angry, but Dean was still frightened of him. He didn't try to argue; instead he wordlessly turned around and ran back to the roadhouse.

Nearly half an hour had passed since Dean had witnessed the shooting. Once he had gone inside he had sat down on the couch with Sammy, trying to get his brother to sleep. The television was playing softly in the background, just loud enough to lull the older brother to sleep while the younger one stayed awake in his arms. Sam had not slept easily in weeks. Ellen gently picked up the 6 month old, doing her best not to wake Dean up. Her attempts were in vain when the door swung open moments later by John and Bill. They were covered in dirt and grime and looked exhausted. Ellen, seeing that Dean had been woken up, handed Sam back to him then quickly got the two men and herself a beer. Bill and Ellen sat down at the bar while John went and sat by Dean who cuddled into his side and looked up with questioning eyes.

"Why'd you kill him, Dad?" Dean's voice cracked and he looked down, scared that John would be upset with him.

"You should have stayed inside, Dean. It's dangerous out there."His eyes were mixed with anger and concern.

"But why, Dad? Why did you shoot that man?" He wanted to cry, but instead he thought of his angel boy. That thought comforted him and he was able to look at John again, "please tell me."

"Dean, that wasn't…I mean that…I know what you think it looked like. But I want you to know that who I shot, what I shot, was not human. You see, Dean, there are things out there, things that most people say are fairytales, and they're real. And these, things, they kill people. And that man, what looked like a man that I shot is one of those things. He has killed a lot of people, Dean, and I couldn't let that happen. So I had to shoot him. I had to, do you understand?"

"Yeah, Dad, I do." Dean paused, thinking things over, "Dad, did one of those things kill Mom? Is that why you shot it? Was he the one that killed her?" For being so young Dean was quite perceptive. John wasn't sure about how to answer all of his questions. He looked down at Dean who was still holding Sam and wished these small boys didn't have to go through this. But he knew that the truth was the best option at this point.

"The one that I killed today was not the one that killed your mother. I'm not sure who or what killed her, but trust me as soon as I know what did it I will make sure they never kill again. I promise that I'm not going to let anything hurt you or Sam. But you have to help me; I'm not always going to be able to look after you boys every minute of every day. Promise me that you'll watch over Sammy, don't let anything hurt him. This will be your job as an older brother. Can you do that for me, Dean?"

"I promise Dad," Dean looked down at the baby who had finally fallen asleep, "I won't let anything happen to him. I promise."John stood up, grabbed Dean and Sam in his arms, and carried them to a bed.

"Good night, Dean."

"'Night, Dad." John left the room and went back to the bar where Ellen and Bill were still talking. Dean knew he should sleep but the events of the day weighed heavily on his mind and he still could not get the angel boy off of his mind. What was his name? Was he really an angel, or one of these bad things that his dad had been talking about? He didn't seem bad, not really, so Dean didn't think that his Dad would have to kill the angel boy. Dean fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of the angel boy turning into an evil storybook creature. He didn't' sleep well until he felt that same warm presence from earlier. His angel boy was watching over him.


	2. Chapter 2

January 24, 1988

Three weeks into the new year, two weeks back at school, the third school attended that year, and Dean's ninth birthday. This probably wasn't going to be a day that Dean remembered. The moving from school to school had started about a year earlier. At first they only moved every few months, maybe once or twice per semester. But then it became once a month and that eventually turned into moving once a week. Sometimes John wondered if Dean would hate moving from school to school but in the end he knew that they couldn't just stay in one place. It wasn't safe, and John was a hunter now, he had to hunt. There was no turning back from the lifestyle he had chosen for the family.

Dean would never complain about it to John, but he did hate moving around so often. He was no good at making friends and only being in a school for a week at a time only worsened the situation. He never talked to anyone at school unless they addressed him first. Most of the time he just referred to himself as "New Kid"; what was the point of anyone learning his name if he was going to be gone in a week. He hadn't seen the angel boy since that night in November, over four years ago now. Dean had given up on the thought of ever seeing him again. At least he still had Sammy. Sam was four years old now and one of the few good things in Dean's life. Every day before he left for school Dean made John promise that he would take good care of Sam. When school was out for the day Dean couldn't wait to go back to the crappy motel they were staying in just so that he could talk to Sammy and watch some brainless television show. Whenever he was around his little brother Dean felt like he was home.

But Dean still wished that he had friends. Everyone else at school seemed so happy and carefree. Dean needed someone to talk to, to vent his frustrations to. He loved his dad and brother, but sometimes they weren't enough. Now would be a great time for his angel boy to show his face. Of course Dean had no real expectation of the boy ever showing up again. He was used to endings, they happened about once a week for him. Nothing memorable about any of them. So Dean went to school, he did his work, he came home, cared for Sam, went to bed, then started it all over the next day. That was his life and he was used to it; not that being used to it made anything better. Even after four years Dean still had trouble sleeping; nightmares of fires and creatures trying to hurt his family plagued him. Occasionally, when the dream was especially bad, the angel boy would appear. The boy never spoke but he would make the fire cease and the monsters disappear with just a glance. Then he would place his hand on Dean's shoulder, just like he did that November night, and Dean would fall into a peaceful sleep.

March 27, 1988

Dean had already lost count of the number of schools he had attended so far that year. Sometimes they would stay for a few weeks, but usually it was one week in a school and then they would be gone. John had left to go on a hunt as soon as Dean got home from school and left Dean in charge of Sam. Usually Dean would take Sam to the park or on a short walk just to get out of the motel room for a little while, but he was tired from his first day at a new school and didn't feel like going back outside. He turned on the TV so that Sam wouldn't get bored and started reading his assignment that was due the next day.

"Dean," Sam looked slightly confused but Dean didn't answer. "Dean," his brother still didn't respond. "DEAN!" Sam jumped on the bed making sure he had gained Dean's full attention.

"What do you want?" Dean laughed and started tickling Sam.

"Stop, Dean, stop it!" Sam wiggled away from Dean and sat on the edge of the bed. "This show is boring; I want you to tell me a story."

"You want me to tell you a story? Come on, I'm even more boring than the TV. I would read you me book, but trust me; it's even more boring than I am."

"Tell me about the angel boy. You haven't talked about him in forever and I want to hear about him." Sam looked pleadingly at his older brother, "Please?"

"I can't tell stories, dude. It's not going to happen," Dean tried to go back to reading.

"Just a short one?"

"No, go watch TV. I'm going to start dinner soon anyway."

"Fine," Sam moved back to the raggedy old chair in front of the television set and started pouting.

Dean looked up from his book "I'm sorry, Sammy. You know I don't like talking about him anymore. He's not going to come back no matter how much I talk about him," he got up from the bed and moved towards the tiny kitchenette. "So how does macaroni and cheese sound?"

A few hours later dinner had been eaten, the dishes had been cleaned up and Sam had fallen asleep. Dean had been sitting in front of the TV, not really paying attention to it. His mind was wrapped up in thoughts of the angel boy, school, and wondering if his dad was alright. It had been too long since Dean had seen the angel boy, heck he wasn't even sure the boy actually existed. He had read somewhere that bad experiences could make people see things that weren't really there. Maybe the boy was just a figment of his imagination, a dream that would never be realized. Thoughts of school swarmed his mind. Unfamiliar faces of children that would be gone from his life in less than a week. What was the use of making friends if it wouldn't last? These thoughts were soon overcome with concern for John. His father was gone so often that Dean was in a constant state of worry for him. Dean knew some of what went on when his father was away; after all he had gone shooting with his father before. Dean was a natural marksman according to John. Most of his classmates had hardly even seen a gun before, let alone shot one. But Dean knew his family was different. He was destined to live a different kind of life than others. But he also knew that his father saved people from dying; that's why they were constantly on the move, constantly looking out for different monsters. And eventually they were going to find what killed his mother and it would all be worthwhile in the end. At least Dean hoped it would be.

All of the thinking was starting to weigh Dean down. He had to get out of the room before he went insane so he checked to make sure that Sammy was asleep before leaving the room, locking it behind him. The cool evening air met him and calmed him down instantly. The setting sun was just an ember left in the Western sky and the semi-darkness left a feeling of peace in Dean. He remembered seeing an arcade just around the corner and decided to head that way. He had a few dollars left over from a bet he had made at his last school so it wouldn't hurt to play a few games, John wouldn't be home for a few more hours anyway.

Dean played games until the owner of the arcade kicked him out when the store closed. The thought that he should have stayed back at the motel to look after Sammy concerned him, but he knew that he deserved a few hours off every once in a while. Everything seemed quite when he got back to the motel, which meant that John had not gotten back from the hunt yet. Dean closed the main door behind him before going to open the bedroom door to check on Sammy. The first thing he noticed was Sammy, lying across the bed rather than under the blankets, the kid must have woken up and gone looking for Dean at some point in time before giving up and collapsing back on the bed. The next thing, a little more concerning, was the shrouded figure standing over Sam. Dean reached for the rifle that had been placed against the door frame slowly as to not draw attention to himself. Aim was taken, the safety lock undone, all Dean had to do was pull the trigger. He would always remember the time that he should have pulled the trigger but couldn't, he was too frightened. The next thing Dean remembered was his father opening the door, drawing his pistol, and shooting at the figure. He missed the shot, but the figure fled from the room, jumping through the window dodging bullets the entire time. Dean remembered the look of disappointment, the fury in John's eyes, the guilt that he should have saved his brother but hesitated instead.

Sam woke up at the sound of gunfire and shattering glass, disoriented and groggy. John had left the room in anger but Dean crawled on to the bed with his brother, pulling him close.

"It's okay Sammy, I've got you." Dean held Sam until they both fell into a restless sleep. There were no dreams of angels that night.

The next morning Dean got up quietly and prepared for school. After he had showered and dressed he grabbed his backpack and headed out the door. He tried to block the previous night's events out of his head but he couldn't fight the memories for long. Dean started running towards the school, anything to distract his mind, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A familiar sense of calm washed over him as he turned around. There, standing in the shadow of a tree, was the angel boy. He had finally come back. Dean looked at him questioningly, hesitant that he might be hallucinating.

The boy smiled at him and touched Dean's shoulder as he had all those years ago, "Hello, Dean."


	3. Chapter 3

March 27, 1988

Dean remembered very little about his mom, but there were a few things that were still clear in his mind. He remembered being offered pie whenever he was sad. His mom always made the best apple pie and she was known to keep a supply of it around at all times. He remembered her getting upset with John, but Dean was always there to give her a hug and to tell her it was going to be okay. And he remembered that every night before he went to sleep she would kiss Dean on the forehead and tell him that angels were watching over him. Now Dean had never given that particular notion much thought. As he grew older Dean thought that it was a nice sentiment, but angels weren't real. Because if angels were real so was God, and how could God allow little boys to lose their mothers? How could God allow John to be away so much, leaving Sammy to practically be raised by Dean? How could evil creatures be roaming around leaving death and chaos behind them? Angels weren't real and that was the end of it.

_"It's you."_

_ "Of course it is, Dean. I have always been me. What is your point?"_

_ "I mean, I've seen you before. The night of the fire, and that night I saw my dad kill that creature. And now you're here again after I almost let Sammy get killed. You always show up when something bad happens. Why is that?"_

_ "I am an angel of the Lord, Dean. I was sent here to protect you"_

_ "No, angels aren't real. You can't be an angel." _

Dean had run away, unwilling to accept that angels might be real. If angels were real why hadn't they saved his mom? Why were there evil creatures that killed people? It was just much easier to believe that angels weren't real and leave it at that. Dean hoped he would never see this boy again. The angel boy, Dean had always jokingly referred to him as the angel boy why couldn't he just accept that this boy actually was an angel? His mind raced through the entire first part of the day. Dean even found it hard to eat at lunch, and he always ate lunch because he was never sure if there was going to be enough food for both him and Sammy. Half of his brain wanted to stop thinking about the boy and just ignore that it had ever happened. The rest of him argued that this boy had brought light to his life when it had seemed so very dark. How could someone who had brought hope into his life be bad? But Dean couldn't bring himself to believe in angels. Because if there were angels then there was a God and a loving God would not let bad things happen to his children.

The cascade of thoughts was broken up by the bell ringing, announcing recess. Dean took his respective place at the end of the alphabetical line and walked silently behind his class. As Dean walked out of the school building he could see a small figure in a tan coat hunched down over a flower in the playground yard. Not sure if he should go talk to the boy Dean instead decided to test out the angel theory.

"Hey, Tommy, do you see something over there?" He pointed towards the angel boy.

"Just a flower, dude. Why?"

"No reason, I just thought I saw a huge bug on it. It's probably nothing," Dean started walking in the opposite direction of the boy and headed towards the swings. The next time he looked over towards the boy he had disappeared. Maybe Dean was imagining things.

"I really am an angel, Dean."

"Holy crap, dude, a little warning next time?" Dean jumped in surprise.

"Dean, I'm being serious. I am an angel. You're guardian angel to be more specific."

Dean stopped dead in his tracks, completely caught off guard. Before he could stop himself he blurted out, "Why would I, of all people, have a guardian angel? What makes me so special?"

"Everyone has a guardian angel, Dean."

"But why are you here. Aren't guardian angels, if there is actually such a thing, supposed to watch from the side lines? I'm not supposed to actually know who you are, am I?"

"I am Castiel. And you are correct; I am never supposed to let you know of my existence. However you are so different from most humans and I became curious. Heaven is in turmoil right now and no one will notice if I disappear occasionally." Castiel stopped talking abruptly, believing he had said too much. Dean did appear slightly taken aback. "I am sorry, Dean. If you would prefer I will never try to talk to you again. I will merely watch 'from the sidelines' as you said." Castiel looked so distraught that Dean immediately calmed down and tried to think rationally.

"No, I'm just…I need a second to process this. I'm still not sure I fully believe in angels, let alone guardian angels. And…wait, you're not supposed to be talking to me! You could get in trouble for this conversation! Castiel, I'm a nine year old, you can't risk everything just to talk to me!" Dean's thoughts were racing again. A list of the worst possible scenarios started forming in his head. "I can't be the reason an angel gets in trouble! I'm not worth it, please don't endanger yourself for me!"

"Dean, I understand my risks and the consequences should my activities be discovered. I have grown weary of arguing with my brothers and sisters. I need a break, I need someone I can talk to when I have had enough. I want to do this."

"But why me? What makes me different than anyone else? I'm just a kid, there's nothing special about me." Dean was more concerned than ever.

"If you only knew just how wrong that statement was, Dean. You are far more important than you could ever imagine. Please, just allow me this one escape, this one way to stay sane."

"As long as you promise me that the moment you discover that you might be in trouble you run away from me and never look back. Keep yourself safe."

"I promise."

The recess bell rang and Dean had to leave the angel for the meantime, but Castiel promised that he would be around.

December 1988

The rest of that year went by relatively uneventfully. The family still moved around quite a bit, often only staying in one place for a week or two at a time, but sometimes John would decide to stay in one spot for a month. Dean always enjoyed these times because John would usually find a day or two to take the boys sightseeing. In August they traveled to the west coast of Michigan, while John was out working a case Dean would take Sammy to the beach. Dean started school in Michigan, even got to stay there for two weeks before moving on. It had been the closest to normal he had felt in a long time. Even when Dean found it hard to make friends at school he never truly felt alone for he had an angel looking after him. An unlikely friendship had begun to form. Once in awhile Castiel would disappear for a few weeks but he always came back. He had started to teach Dean how to look for signs that indicated angel activity so that Dean would aslways be able to find him. And Dean taught Cas how to make macaroni and cheese and how to fish, though Cas showed a blatant dislike for fishing. He always mentioned that those fish could end up being important one day.

Dean and Cas had grown such a tight bond that in November when Cas announced that he needed to lay low for a few months Dean was devastated. But he knew that Cas would always return as long as there was a way. In December Dean got a subscription to the Weekly World News at school. He thought that maybe he could track angel activity around the world, Cas had been gone for almost a month and a half and Dean was starting to worry. He had never been gone for this long before. But Dean kept faith that his angel would find his way back, but until then Dean decided that he would pay attention to signs and try to keep track of Castiel. Even if the method wasn't exact and the results were far from perfect it gave Dean comfort and a reason to hold on until his angel returned.


	4. Chapter 4

**February 27, 1993**

His first hunt, another strong memory, another day that Dean would never forget. John had finally agreed to bring Dean along on a hunt, and Dean had screwed things up already. They were hunting a werewolf in Illinois. They had followed it out of town into a small forest where they found an old abandoned cabin. When they lost the track of the wolf John decided to split up. Dean would stay near the cabin in case the creature came back while John would search the woods. Dean quickly agreed, not wanting to get lost in the woods; this was his first hunt after and he would prefer to make it out alive.

It had been about half an hour without hearing from John when Dean decided he should look inside the house. The door was easy enough to open once the lock was picked, an easy feat, and Dean walked in. He remembered John teaching him how to be quiet while keeping his gun, already loaded with silver bullets, ready to shoot. His flashlight was in his left hand, his right hand, holding the gun, was balanced on top of the left for extra support. The cabin was small, comprised of a living area that combined a living room and kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It didn't take long for Dean to do a sweep of the cabin and assess that he was the only one there. As he was leaving the bedroom Dean noticed that the door was slightly opened. He remembered closing the door. In that moment of hesitation Dean was taken off guard. The werewolf jumped from behind the couch and started towards him, slowly stalking his prey.

"Yo, Cas, dude I know it's been awhile, but this would totally be an awesome time for you to show up."

The next thing Dean knew there was a flash of light followed by a teenage angel appearing. The new addition to the room was enough to confuse and distract the creature, giving Dean enough time to go in for the kill. A shot rang out and his aim held true, the silver bullet did its job and Dean was safe. Castiel started towards Dean when he heard footsteps approaching.; John had headed back their way when he heard the shot. Castiel looked at Dean in fear; there was an unspoken rule between them that John was not to learn about Castiel. John didn't believe in angels or demons, so explaining a guardian angel would be no small task; a task saved for another day perhaps.

"I'll be back later. I promise," with that Cas disappeared.

"Dean, you alright? I lost the son of a bitch, you seen him?" John walked through the door and stopped abruptly. "Well then, I guess you have. Guess we should take care of the body then head back to Sammy."

"Yes, sir," Dean should have been disappointed that John didn't even offer a 'good job' or a 'well done' but he was so happy that his angel was back that he didn't dwell on that thought long. When one's guardian angel was around it was difficult to be concerned about a small congratulatory remark about his first kill. Overall it had been a good day. Dean had completed his first hunt, and he had successfully shot and killed the creature. Granted Cas had helped, but Dean couldn't fault him for that and he was used to it to be honest. Cas was always around when Dean needed him most. The angel would come and go, but he was always there in times of need.

Sam was, somewhat impatiently, waiting back at the motel room.

"How'd it go, Dean? Did you kill it? Did you get hurt? Are you okay? Are you…"

"Slow down, dude, don't hurt yourself. Yes I killed it, I almost got hurt but my awesome gun skills saved my life, so yes I am one hundred percent okay."

"You almost got killed?! What happened?"

At this point John walked into the room, hanging up his cell phone. "You boys will have time for stories later. Right now we gotta hit the road again. I just got wind of a black dog out in Nebraska and I owe a buddy a favor. I told him we'd come take care of it," he gave Dean a look indicating that he would be allowed to come along. "I need to make a stop for supplies, when I get back you boys better be packed and ready to head out."

"Yes, sir," both boys said in unison. They had learned this was the best response when it came to instructions from their father.

As soon as John was out the door Sam began packing while Dean fixed some food. It was just hot dogs, but it was dinner.

"Okay, explain. What happened?" Sam asked expectantly. He may not have enjoyed hunting and shooting as much as Dean did, but he certainly enjoyed Dean's stories.

"So Dad and I had tracked this thing out into the woods and we came across this cabin right? Well, Dad went on and I stayed behind as a lookout. I checked out the cabin and didn't find anything. When I was getting ready to leave the werewolf jumped out of nowhere and started stalking me, ready to pounce! I was backed up against the wall, but since I'm awesome I shot it. End of story," Dean didn't meet Sam's eyes at the end of the story. And Sam knew he had left part out.

"He showed up didn't he? Your angel? But you told me you had outgrown him!"

"I thought I had. Apparently he hasn't given up on me, because he showed up, he distracted the werewolf, and he saved my life. Again."

"Dean, haven't you noticed he shows up whenever you're in trouble? The time that thing almost killed me, that time he pulled you from the river when those water spirits tipped your canoe? That time you missed the shot at that buck and I ended up taking it out then you and dad got into a huge fight? The angel always shows up when you are in danger or upset. There's definitely a pattern here, Dean."

"I know, dude. It's weird," Dean hadn't told Sam about the whole 'guardian angel' thing. It's not like Sam would believe him anyway, he hardly believed the angel was real in the first place. But because Dean was so adamant about it and because Dean would hardly be one to make something so fanatical up, Sam chose to believe him. It was just easier that way.

**February 28, 1993**

They had made it to Nebraska, Dean and Sam had both been registered in school, and they were settled into another motel room. It was late, Dean had already gone out and gotten them dinner from some fast food joint and Sam had fallen asleep. Dean wanted to go out on a walk, but he knew that he had to stay here and keep an eye on Sammy. Even after all these years Dean still knew that if he left bad things could happen, and he couldn't live with that fact. So instead he sat in the motel room, the television set on softly, watching some old rerun of a sitcom.

"Hello, Dean," a voice announced a new presence in the room.

"I've been waiting for you, Cas."

"I know, but there wasn't a time when you were alone before this. And I thought you wanted me to remain a secret from your family," Castiel looked at Dean quizzically.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. But why did it take you so long to come again? Where have you been?"

A cloud of sadness shrouded Castiel's face for a moment before he looked up. "Dean, I know that is difficult for you to understand, but I cannot be with you at all times. Sometimes I am with you and you do not know of my presence. This is the way that it must be."

"Aren't you my guardian angel? Aren't you supposed to watch over me and protect me? Isn't that the point of guardian angels? And while we're on the topic, what about Sammy's guardian angel? Does he have one? I can't always be there to watch out for him." Dean stopped, realizing that he had said too much. Castiel looked upset; a mixture of anger and sadness. "I'm sorry, Cas. I shouldn't have…"

"No, Dean, it's alright. I understand. And I can't make you understand, I can't explain it to you. It is far too complicated. If you must know, yes, Sam does have a guardian angel; everyone does. But some angels have become preoccupied with other things. You cannot know or understand what is going on, and I cannot tell you. But, believe me, you will know soon enough. I cannot be here all of the time, and I apologize. But you should know that I will always be here when you need me. I will never let you befall any harm too great for you to handle. I promise."

"Do you know when I'll get to see you again?" Dean wouldn't admit it, but he had grown fond of his angel.

"I don't. I am uncertain if I shall see you tomorrow, or if it will be years from now. Just know that I will be around. But it grows late and your father will be back soon. I must leave now." And with that Castiel was gone leaving Dean alone again with a sleeping brother and a slightly battered T.V. for company.


End file.
